Before the Next Great Adventure
by A.K. Leighton
Summary: It's easy to believe that we're all different and that everyone is unique. But don't forget that when you wipe the slate clean, everyone starts with the same base. All that's different about us is how we go through life- from the moment where we just begin to live to the second we don't. However, death is but the next great adventure. A series of connected one-shots.
1. Dust Hawkfrost

1.

Dust [ Hawkfrost]

Hawkfrost pushes the shop door open to see a tall countertop and stacks upon stacks of boxes behind it. He could see the dust floating through the air and felt his lip curling.

This would not do. He was about to exit the shop when a distracted-looking old man with wispy white hair popped up behind the counter.

"Ah... Parkinson," he mumbles distractedly, and Hawkfrost looks up. "Hayden Parkinson."

"Don't call me that," snaps Hawkfrost. "My name is Hawkfrost."

"Yes, yes," he mutters to himself. "How about... try this one. Elm, Phoenix tail feather, 12 1/4", supple."

Hawkfrost picks up the wand and immediately drops it as a small shock courses up his arm.

He hisses quietly, glaring at the man. "Ah... not that one, then... maybe... chestnut, dragon heartstring... 13 3/4", brittle."

Hawkfrost picks it up and flicks his wrist, sending some pile of boxes in the back of the shop tumbling. He sets it back into its box, grimacing.

"No? Perhaps... Ah, this should do it. Aspen, dragon heartstring core... 13 1/4", whippy."

Hawkfrost wraps his hand around it, feeling a surge of power flow from the tips of his finger up to the top of his shoulder and run throughout his body. He waves it through the air, sending a shower of silver sparks out.

"Good, good... that'll be five galleons."

Hawkfrost pays and leaves, approaching his father, a man with his own dark hair and sharp eyes. Hawkfrost nods once and his father sets a brisk pace toward the Magical Menagerie.

That night, Hawkfrost names his owl after his little brother.


	2. Live (To See Her Again) Hawkfrost

2.

Live (To See Her Again) [ Hawkfrost ]

Ivypool is just a friend, he knows, but he can't help but admire her.

Her sister is always the center of attention, pretty, popular, and powerful.

She knows this. She's sick of it. But at the same time, she acts like the main character of her own story.

She walks around the castle like she owns it, but she's humble at the same time. It's not the kind of arrogance he sees in the Slytherin girls. It's a kind of aura she builds around herself, and it's graceful and elegant, but she's harsher than a roaring waterfall.

"I have to leave."

They stand there for a while, just staring, in a bubble of their own world. He wishes this time would stretch into infinity. He wishes he could watch her tilt her head, deep in thought, her brows furrowed. He wants to brush her hair out of her blue eyes, but he knows she likes it that way.

He snaps back to reality when she replies.

"Why?"

He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out and instead he takes a breath. He thinks through his words. He's choosing them carefully as if they would both crumble if he says something wrong.

"He knows, Ivypool."

Her eyes widen, and he knows she's biting her tongue.

"Everything is changing."

"But-"

"You have to stay here. Take care of him for me and stay safe. I can't do anything about it."

Ivypool clenches her fist. "Hawkfrost..."

He leans in, laying a chaste kiss on her lips, and she's frozen from surprise.

"But... I'm sure one day we'll meet again."

And he's gone.

He's running away. He doesn't know where, but there only one thing on his mind.

Live. And see her again.


	3. Quick Match: Mothwing

3.

Quick Match [ Mothwing ]

Mothwing, nervous, steps into an old shop with the gold letters OLLIVANDER'S painted across it. She fidgets anxiously as the man over the counter sets a wand on the table.

"Morgan Pa-"

Her eyes sharpen into a dark glare and he stops himself.

"Mothwing Parkinson."

She nods, returning to her timid self, and apologizes silently, picking up the wand. It's an immediate match, she can tell, a light feeling filling her up, and she practically floats.

"Beech, dragon heartstring core, 12", supple. Your brother was harder to place," Mr. Ollivander says as she sets five galleons on the table and stands there awkwardly. "Well? Go on. Get out of here."

She squeaks and exits the shop, almost running into her father, who catches her with a sigh. He guides her to the magical menagerie, and she picks a long furred, dappled cat with dark golden fur.

When the cat looks at her with those amber eyes, she recognizes them. She sees herself in there, her old self, the one who was bold and fun and kind, the one before her father and her mother started arguing.

When she brings her home, her name is Morganna.


	4. Together: Mothwing

4.

I Hate Myself [ Mothwing ]

Mothwing hugs her knees tightly to her chest. It's not right. It bothers her every day, no matter how much she tells herself it's okay and to just get over it.

She cries silently, tears spilling from her eyes as the thoughts roll around in her head, and she has nothing to do but acknowledge them.

You're a terrible sister.

Why didn't you just do something?

Everyone else is over it, toughen up.

You're going over this again?

No, you're a terrible person.

You could have stopped it. You were right there.

Hawkfrost probably thinks you're weak.

Stop thinking. You're thinking too much again.

A knock resounds against the empty of her room, and she whimpers.

"Mothwing?" the door opens and there stands Hawkfrost, 15 years old and looking as if nothing was wrong. He sits down across from her, worry clouding his gaze. "Are you okay?"

Mothwing bites back a retort.

Are you okay?

She hates that question

Instead, she swallows thickly, shaking her head.

"Is it him again?"

He means Tadpole. Their mother refused to call him that. She called him 'Taylor' and Hawkfrost 'Hayden.'

She was 'Morgan.'

Hawkfrost and Mothwing hated those names, but Tadpole preferred his.

He didn't like the name Tadpole.

It made him sound weak. Small.

He didn't like that, and both Hawkfrost and Mothwing knew it. So, their mother got custody of Tadpole and they lived with their father.

Mothwing tried to get Tadpole to live with them. She can still remember it.

They were sitting, legs hanging off the bench while Hawkfrost got ice cream for them.

"Why don't you live with us, Tadpole?"

"I told you. I don't like that name."

"But, Tadpole-"

He stands. "Why don't you just leave me alone, Mothwing? Why did you come here?"

Mothwing's small face creases with worry and confusion.

"Tadpole, what are you talking abou-"

"I told you not to call me that!" he shouts, turning toward the street. His eyes flicker toward the walk light and he glares at her. "Just stay away from me!"

He'd been so sure that the light was clear.

Mothwing doesn't realize she's been sobbing until Hawkfrost wraps an arm around her, leaning his head into hers.

"Hey," he says. "It's gonna be okay. It's okay. He's in Starclan now, right?"

Mothwing's sobs mix with a bit of laughter, because she's too old to play their fairytale game anymore.

"The Clans don't exist, Hawkfrost!" she chokes out, and he just holds her tighter.

"Just let it out."

"I-I," she stutters at first. "I hate it! It's not fair! He deserved to live, and it's all my fault! I hate life! I hate myself! I hate everything..." her sobs slow into sniffles and she whispers, squeezing her eyes shut as if it would stop the images in her head. Her hands raise to her ears, trying to block out the noise. "I tell myself that it's okay everyday... but I can't help but question myself."

Hawkfrost says, "I know. But you're not doing this alone. We're doing it together, remember? We're facing the world with each other."

Mothwing nods.

But a year later, he's gone. And she wishes she still believed him.


End file.
